I'm Coming Back
by Protector of the Gray Fortress
Summary: The Doctor is a prisoner of the Master and Martha Jones is left to carry on the fight. On the first difficult night alone she finds help from an unexpected source. LotTL spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I would give my right hand to own the Doctor. But, since it's still attached one must assume…

Warnings: Sound of Drums and Last of the Timelords spoilers…don't read if you haven't seen. Or if you don't really care than be my guest.

I always thought the Doctor was a little vague in his instructions to Martha during the Sound of Drums. Did he really have time to whisper the entire plan to her? I came up with another way for her to hear it.

Martha Jones continued walking…stumbling rather. She'd been running all day…running it seemed was the only thing she could do.

Not 12 hours earlier she had watched as the Master took control of the earth, murdered Jack, and aged the Doctor before her eyes. And she had stood by and watched…unable to prevent it.

She hated it, this feeling of inaction! That's why she had become a doctor. To change things, to take control of life. She was exhausted, and hungry, and cold. She was still horrified at the destruction that she saw all around her, she was sickened by the idea of the Jack and her family and most of all the Doctor imprisoned with the Master…victims of his amusement and whim to be used as he pleased.

Most of all though she was shocked, shocked that such a thing could happen. This never happened. Not to her Doctor! There was no problem he couldn't solve…no enemy he couldn't defeat…nothing he couldn't do…this couldn't have happened!

But it had…and the unshakable faith she had placed in the Doctor since she had first met the Doctor…the faith she hadn't even realized she had until now…had been shattered.

She remembered the look he had given her as she crouched beside him on the floor. She had seen many things in his eyes…surprise, anger, humor, depression, happiness…but never a look like that…not the heartbreaking look of defeat.

He'd whispered something to her then…given her instructions to carry on without him. _Tell the others…use the network…use the countdown. _ Broken and bent with age he had pressed the Vortex Manipulator into her hand, like a baton…it was up to her now, he was saying, it was her turn to fight.

But she'd never fought without him before…he'd always been there…even when he'd been John Smith and the time he'd been possessed by the sun, he'd still been there. Now she was alone.

_Use the countdown…_ but what did that mean?!

She stopped finally, gasping for breath, leaning against a tree that had been half demolished by the Tochlaphane. Her vision was blurry. She reached up a hand to rub her eyes and found them wet.

She was sobbing. She was crying and she hadn't even realized it. She tried to dry her eyes…but the dam had broken and she continued to cry silently shaking.

Then she heard them…the Tochlaphane…ripping through the stillness of the dark. She tried desperately to think. Panic rose in her chest…she had to run and hide. She took off towards a row of demolished buildings…her lungs burning, hot tears still gathering in her eyes, her heavy feet dragging.

They were coming closer, she heard screams as they eliminated several stragglers. She staggered to her knees…she couldn't go any farther…couldn't do this…not on her own.

"Oi!" A strange, gruff voice called out and reassuringly, strong hands gripped her shoulders, drawing her to her feet. "That won't do you any good you know. Come on."

Her unknown benefactor drew her to the left…down an embankment to a house that was partially hidden and abandoned, though not yet demolished. The Man pushed her inside and closed the door behind him.

Martha clung breathlessly against a hall table and watched the man as he leaned against the door, glancing out the narrow window beside it.

It was too dark to do more than make out his profile…he was tall and rather lanky, with a prominent nose.

"Thanks," Martha gasped.

"Well you looked a bit stranded out there…I wouldn't make it a habit of freezing up like that. You won't last long…" he strode past her down the hall in the manner of someone who knew exactly where he was going. "…that won't help the Doctor any."

His frank, sure voice acted like a tonic to her…lending her strength, calming her nerves. And his last comment sent a spark of energy through her. She followed him into a room that turned out to be a kitchen. He had already lit the stove and was using the flames to light a candle that he set on the kitchen's round table.

He busied himself as she collapsed into a chair. Gathering various foodstuffs from the cupboards. He set it all on the table, sat down himself, and began expertly peeling a potato, holding the small paring knife delicately in his long-fingered, but masculine hands. He was cleanshaven with very short-cropped hair, and blue eyes that watched his work with a concentrated energy. He had large ears to match the nose and he wore a battered leather jacket.

Martha finished her examination than indulged her curiosity…"Who are you again?"

The man looked up and smiled…Martha liked the expression at once…it lit up his dour face making it familiar and friendly.

"I'm the Doctor." he said in his northern accent.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

The statement was so ludicrous that was Martha was thunderstruck for several long moments while the stranger placidly peeled another potato.

"What…what do you mean 'you're the Doctor'?"

The man smiled again. "I am."

"No…no you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No…I'm a friend of the Doctors…I've seen 'im I know 'im. He's on the Valiant…I left him not 10 hours ago. I've never seen you in my entire life."

"No, you haven't."

This sudden agreement threw Martha off. "But…I should know…I've been traveling with im."

"I know you 'ave."

Martha raised her eyebrows skeptically. "So what you're sayin' is that you're the Doctor, when he's sittin' up there on the valiant and I'd know im right off and I don't even recognize you."

The stranger looked up at her, his blue eyes reflecting the small flame of the candle, the smile never leaving his face. "Yes."

"But…but that's impossible! I mean…you look nothing like im!"

The 'Doctor' skewered one of the potato's and held it over the oven flame. "He told you about regenerations yeah? I'm a past incarnation…the one just before him in fact. Number nine…pleased to meet you Martha Jones." He shook her hand with his free one than settled back in his chair, evidently enjoying the look of confusion on her face.

"You're what he looked like before?"

"Yep."

"But…if you're from the Doctor's past than won't he remember?…Won't you bein' here create a paradox or something?"

The Doctor's smile saddened a little. "That's not a problem thanks to Mr. Saxon."

Martha opened her mouth to question why…and stopped. Of course…the Paradox machine!

"The Master aged the Doctor one hundred years…" the ninth Doctor said, "You can't do that to a Timelord without a few side effects, because of the regenerations…add a paradox machine in and it gets even more complicated"

He slipped the golden-brown potato from the poker and laid it before Martha, than skewered the second one.

"So…" Martha said slowly, still trying to get this across in her head,"…You're like a piece of my Doctor…an' you sort of got knocked out of place, an' the paradox machine allows you to exist at the same time."

His brows furrowed and he looked at her appreciatively, "Has he told you how clever you are?"

"Not clever enough." Martha muttered, she took the cooling potato in her hands. "If I had been I might have helped him…I might have thought of something." Her vision blurred again, unbidden.

"Stop that."

Martha looked up, surprised to see that the blue eyes had turned stern and sober.

"Like I said…won't do you or the Doctor any good…he needs you more than ever now, he's counting on you. If it's anybody's fault its 'is. This new regenerations a bit careless…I mean gettin' himself possessed by a sun…when all he had to do was recalibrate the retrieval system so the pod would…" he noticed her staring at him and cleared his throat.

"You _are _the Doctor." Martha said, a kind of awe in her face.

"I told you that before…and don't go gettin' ideas into your head…I'm just here to pass a message not to fight your battles for you."

"What. You mean…" the black depression that had so briefly lifted off Martha settled onto her shoulders again. "…You're not stayin?" She had known this stranger, gruffer version of the Doctor only 30 minutes, and already she loved him. She didn't want to even think about losing him.

His face and his voice softened. "I'm sorry," He said "I don't have all that long to exist…that's another side effect…the Master literally gave my years to the Doctor…stripped me of them…I know it dosen't make a lot of sense, but that's how it is."

"So you'll just sort of… fade away. An'…I'll be alone again."

The Doctor's eyebrows raised and he gave a little laugh "That's a funny thing to say."

Martha was taken aback. "What?"

"Since when were you alone?"

"But…but I am…the Doctor…he's ." She broke off, unable to go on.

The Doctor was smiling again and he shook his head a little. "Silly ape…didn't you learn anything while travelin' with the Doctor for so long?"

"How do you mean?"

"I know it was difficult watchin' that…seein' the Doctor in that condition…and I know the situation seems hopeless. But nothin's changed…He's still there…just like he's always been…and if he has a breath left in his body he'll find a way of helpin' you."

"But…but how…?"

The smile widened, lighting up his face again and he took her shoulders in his big gruff hands…gazing into her face. "I'm here aren't I?"

She looked up to meet his gaze.

"He's your friend Martha Jones…and as long as you have your friends you're never alone."

Now she was really going to cry…somehow he'd said the exact thing she needed to hear…and looking into his earnest blue eyes…she knew it was true.

"I don't know if I can do this." She whispered. "I'm not…"

"Not like Rose?"

How could he know that?

He laughed again and released her shoulders. "Do you think it was any easier for Rose? That she had some sort of special powers? She was workin' in a shop before I blew it up…that's not the point. Rose wasn't afraid of this kind of life…she wasn't afraid to take a stand…to take risks, that's why I chose her and that's exactly why the Doctor chose you Martha Jones. In that way you are exactly like Rose."

He was grinning at her fondly...proudly. A warm glow lit in Martha's chest, and it filled a space where something had been missing before. She straightened unconsciously, squaring her shoulders…her eyes dried.

"Fantastic…Now…are you ready to hear what it was he tried to whisper to you earlier? That's another one of his failings…puts too much faith in you apes to understand everything the way he does…forgets that you see things a bit differently."

"Yeah," Martha took a large bite of the potato. "I'm ready."

* * *

The last thing Martha recalled before she fell asleep on the sofa in the living room of the small house, was the figure of the ninth Doctor, sitting in a chair facing the front door, his arms crossed over his chest, his sharp eyes watchin' the door like a sentinel. She drifted off under the comforting weight of his leather jacket.

When she woke in the morning the house was cold and empty but for her...even the leather jacket was gone.

She raided the house's wardrobes, recalling the last few instruction the ninth Doctor had given to her.

_You'll have to get out of Britain. The Master won't give up looking for you just like that. And you might want to d__ress in something a little darker,__s__omething less noticeable._

She chose a set of clothes that would easily help her blend into the shadows…smiling as the dark clothing reminded her of him, and dressed hurriedly…she had a few hours of darkness left…just enough time to make it to the coast and find a boat.

She hung the TARDIS key around her neck and slipped outside into the darkness. She couldn't help pausing to look up into the starlit sky, past the smog of death and destruction that had settled over the city. There…just visible…she could make out the Valiant. She couldn't lie to herself...she was still afraid...it still hurt to leave him...it still felt like running.

A gruff northern voice echoed in her head. _He's your friend, Martha Jones...and as long as you have friends you're never alone._

She gazed up at the airship and without really thinking on it repeated a promise she had made earlier.

"I'm coming back." she said, than turned, and trotted off into the darkness, to meet whatever challanges awaited her...and this time...she wasn't alone.


End file.
